The Mather Triad: Series Boxed Set (Chloe Mather Thrillers)

by Lawrence Kelter

  “Carolyn and I have split up,” he announced solemnly. “The difference in age … it was too much.”

  “Oh, Uncle Guy, no,” Malaina lamented. “I feel terrible. Are you all right?”

  He threw his hands up in the air. “What am I going to do? Everything happens for a reason.”

  “You’ll find someone else,” Nikki said. Someone who doesn’t spread her legs for every Tom, Dick, and Harry.

  “Anyway, sit,” Abate said. “Where are my manners?” He called over the waiter. “Drinks for the ladies, and keep ’em coming.” He took a hand from each of them. “No more sadness. I insist. It’s time to celebrate.”

  “I’ll drink to that,” Nikki said gleefully. “Get me a cocktail, fast.”

  “Malaina,” he said. “Anything you’d like you eat tonight? I know you young girls watch your figures but not tonight. Tonight we eat like gavones. Chef Paolo is an old friend of mine. If there’s anything you want, just name it and he’ll make it. What should we have to start? A nice antipasto? Clams? Calamari? You name it.”

  “I’ll eat whatever you order, Uncle Guy. I’m not feeling—”

  “Nonsense,” he said, cutting Malaina off. “That’s your head talking, not your stomach.” He turned to the waiter. “Bring it all, antipasto, clams, calamari … and a bottle of your best red wine.”

  ~~~

  Orzani waited in the car. He looked up when the GMC truck pulled up in the space across from him in the garage and flashed the headlamps three times. He picked up the phone and called Abate. “He’s here.”

  ~~~

  “All right, give me two minutes,” Abate answered and quickly disconnected.

  “Mi scusi,” Abate said as he wiped his mouth and stood. “A small matter I must attend to. Can you do without me for five minutes? The food is on its way. Start without me.” He dropped his napkin on the table and walked out of the restaurant.

  Nikki blew him a kiss. “Hurry back.”

  “Mom, I’m not feeling any better.”

  “Oh no. I’m sorry. Look around, Malaina. Isn’t this place beautiful?” Nikki asked. “I think a good meal is just what you need.”

  Malaina smiled weakly. “Ma, I’m gonna go. I really don’t feel well.”

  “Oh, Madonna, really?”

  Malaina’s expression suggested that it was for the best. She rubbed her stomach. “I’ve got cramps.”

  “My God, that too? You poor thing.”

  Malaina nodded. “You take your time and catch up with Uncle Guy. Tell him I love him and that I’ll see him soon.”

  Nikki reached for her purse. “Here’s the parking stub. You take my car, and I’ll take the train home.”

  “No, Ma, I’m fine taking the train. How are you going to get home from the train station?”

  “They’ve got cabs, silly. Anyway, I insist,” she said, glaring defiantly. “Be careful. I’ll apologize to Gaetano. I’m sure he’ll understand.”

  “Thanks, Ma.” Malaina kissed her mother on the cheek, took the parking stub, and left.

  Nikki sighed. She was alone at the table when the appetizers arrived. She picked up her wine and toasted herself. “Well, here’s to me.”

  ~~~

  Abate stepped out of the elevator into the parking lot the moment the doors parted. He saw two vehicles in the distance, the car he and Orzani had arrived in, and a GMC truck parked across from it. His footsteps on the concrete slab resonated loudly as he traversed the congested underground parking lot.

  Orzani got out of the car to wait for Abate. Within a moment they were standing side by side, waiting to greet their visitor.

  Ari Rabin got out of the GMC truck and walked toward Abate and Orzani.

  “That’s him?” Abate asked. “He’s the one that the sheik put us onto, the one who was with Malaina?”

  Orzani spoke in a sober voice. “Yeah. That must be him. I didn’t know he was the sheik’s guy at the time but it all makes sense now.”

  Poker-faced Abate grinned as he greeted the assassin he had paid to kill Silvestri. “Gaetano Abate,” he said as he extended his hand.

  Rabin extended his own. “Ahmed Kasab Gul. Very nice to meet you as well.” He turned to Orzani. “And you, I’ve met.”

  “Very slick, my friend,” Orzani said, “wooing Silvestri’s daughter to get into the house. That was impressive.,” Orzani said with a sly grin. “And I stood there like a guard at Buckingham Palace while you cased the joint. You have my respect. But tell me, because I’ve got to know, did you actually get hurt when she ran you over?”

  “Just ruffled,” Ari replied. He shrugged. “Stunt men do it all the time.”

  Abate pointed to the car. “We’ll switch cars—you take mine, and we’ll take yours. The money is in a briefcase on the backseat—all cash. The GPS is set. It’ll take you to the marina where my boat is docked in Naples, Florida. Philippe, the captain, will take you across the Gulf of Mexico, and from there, you’re on your own. You did me a great service, my friend. I can’t thank you enough.”

  Slitting Silvestri’s throat was my pleasure. “I was here doing some work for the sheik when he sent a message to my hotel, asking if I could do a well-paid side job. I hope my service proved to be helpful.”

  “Like you can’t believe,” Abate said. “Now Silvestri’s turf is mine for the taking, and the sheik’s heroin can flow in from his poppy fields in the golden triangle.”

  “Ah,” Ari said with enlightenment. “So that’s your connection with him.”

  “Atwah and I have a sweet arrangement,” Abate continued. “Dope for guns—no money to launder, no bankers, no shell companies. Barter. It’s perfect.”

  ~~~

  Malaina waited for the elevator to descend and the doors to open. Having made the decision to leave, she wanted to get into the car and away from the area as quickly as possible so as to avoid accidentally bumping into her godfather and needing to explain herself. “Come on. Come on,” she said impatiently. The elevator dropped at a snail’s pace. It finally came to rest on the lower level, and the doors slowly parted. She quickly paced toward her car, keeping her head down and staring at the concrete garage floor as she walked. Familiar voices drew her gaze.

  Malaina looked up and saw her godfather standing alongside Orzani, her father’s former employee. They were talking to … Malaina stopped dead in her tracks, her eyes wide, and her mouth open. “It can’t be,” she muttered. She had called him at least twenty times since the funeral and assumed that he had left town as he said he had to, but now … In that instant she knew them all for what they were, conspirators, her father’s murderers.

  ~~~

  “I scratch the sheik’s back, and he scratches mine,” Abate said.

  I could hear him loud and clear over the mic taped to Ari Rabin’s chest. We were concealed within an FBI surveillance van several yards away. Dozens of FBI agents were hiding in various locations in the underground parking garage. We had just taped Abate saying, “Atwah and I have a sweet arrangement.” Abate continued, “Dope for guns—no money to launder, no bankers, no shell companies. Barter. It’s perfect.” We had him dead to rights. The fool didn’t understand that he was now far more than a drug and weapons smuggler. He had aided a terrorist in an attempted geopolitical attack. He, too, was now an enemy combatant of the United States and through his admission had lost every last one of his civil rights. All we were waiting for before taking him prisoner was to see the money, which we knew was in Abate’s car. I was sitting on pins and needles, waiting for Rabin to seal the deal.

  ~~~

  “May I see the money?” Rabin asked.

  Abate was silent for a moment. “I don’t see why not.” He motioned for Orzani to retrieve it from their car. “Just make it quick. I have dinner guests waiting for me.”

  Orzani laid the briefcase on the hood and popped the latches.

  Rabin lifted the lid and peered in. He flicked the bills on one of the stacks and then sealed the briefcase. “Looks like a mil
lion dollars to me,” he said loudly and clearly. “Thanks.” He handed Orzani his car keys, and while he was off guard, Rabin pulled out his Glock.

  “What the fuck!” Orzani yelled, his expression incredulous. He turned to Abate. “Gaetano, what the hell is going on?”

  Abate sneered at him. “What’s going on? Who told you to fuck my wife?”

  “But, Guy—”

  “But, Guy, my ass. Three times? You fucked her three times? You no good lousy slimeball. You disrespected me? How fucking dare you?”

  “But, Guy, you sold her to a friggin’ Russian Madame. I thought—”

  “That I trusted you? That you were going to be my right-hand man?” Abate snickered. “How stupid do you think I am? You sold out Silvestri. You’re about as loyal as a bitch in heat.”

  Orzani’s eyes blazed. “Why you lousy old son of a bitch.”

  “You’re a dirty fucking turncoat,” Abate spat. “And then you had your way with my wife?” He turned to Rabin. “What the hell are you waiting for? Kill him. Kill the traitor.”

  ~~~

  “That’s it,” Wallace said over his radio. “Move in.”

  I bolted from the van and took position behind a sedan. I looked up from behind the fender and saw that FBI officers were already rushing forward. I placed my rifle on the fender and aimed at Orzani. At first blush it looked like a simple takedown. I doubted that Abate was carrying, and if anyone was going to make a stand, it would be Orzani. I had him in the crosshairs when I saw a young woman rush toward them. She was in a rage, crying and out of control. It took a moment, but I recognized her from the surveillance video taken at Silvestri’s funeral. It was Silvestri’s daughter, Malaina.

  She screamed at Abate, “Why you scheming son of a bitch.”

  “Malaina?” Rabin was taken by surprise and momentarily lowered his weapon.

  She was hysterical as she swung her bag at Abate; then she wheeled around, sneering at Rabin. “You killed my father, you-you lowlife piece of garbage.”

  In the next second the scene turned to chaos as agents surrounded them with their weapons drawn.

  Orzani acted quickly. He pulled his gun, grabbed Malaina, and put it to her head as he backed away from Abate and Rabin.

  Abate regarded the scene in front of him with wide eyes and an expression of utter disbelief. Abate turned to Orzani and yelled, “Mike, it’s over. Let her go.”

  “You think I’m still taking orders from you?” he spat angrily. He nudged Malaina’s head with the gun. “You’re on your own, you old prick.”

  “Put your weapon down,” Wallace yelled. “We’ve got you—”

  “No fucking way!” Orzani shouted. He began to back away from the agents, dragging Malaina with him to the car. “Put your guns down,” he yelled. “Put them down or—”

  It took Orzani one additional moment to realize that the situation was hopeless. He slowly lowered his weapon but then paused and cracked his neck. His expression changed—it almost seemed as if a possessing spirit had swept through him. He turned and sneered at Abate before raising his gun and putting a hole in the old man’s chest.

  I couldn’t take the risk that he’d fire again. His gun was still trained on Abate as the old man stumbled. Slow, steady, pull to the rear. I stilled my breath. Malaina fought to pull free. She couldn’t break away, but she did succeed in moving her head out of my line of sight. I fired and put a single round through Orzani’s skull. He collapsed and toppled to the garage floor.

  Malaina cried out in terror and jumped away from the fallen thug.

  Our agents moved in to clean up the mess.

  Wallace turned to me with an appreciative nod and gave me a solid thumbs-up.

  Chapter 67

  Sheik Yasin-Al-Atwah was in custody. He would never again feel the embrace of his harem wives or know the opulence he’d been accustomed to since birth. I didn’t know where Atwah was being held prisoner, but my guess was Guantanamo Bay or some other hellhole from which he’d most certainly beg to die. One could only hope.

  Ahmed Kasab Gul had cut a deal with the US attorney, but all the deal guaranteed was his right to be tried. He’d likely be extradited back to the Middle East and hung for his crimes. By providing us with the information we needed to avoid the attack on Temple Emanu-El and the assassination of Shaul Tasker, he’d managed to avoid being tortured alongside Atwah. His bargaining hadn’t gotten him very far, but at least he’d leave this world having done one worthwhile deed, and perhaps his conscience would be a little clearer for it.

  Abate’s death and failure to take over Anthony Silvestri’s territory in New York would cause the flow of heroin from Pakistan and the Golden Triangle to suffer a major derailment. I likened the narcotics trade to water seeping through the roof of a dilapidated home. No sooner than one section of roof was repaired than another leak would pop up. If you kept your eye glued to the ceiling long enough, you’d see a new stain developing right next to where an old one was just beginning to dry up.

  Ari Rabin stood alone in the underground parking lot with his head down, looking solemn and worn. He had completed his mission and performed gallantly for his homeland but looked anything but jubilant. His eyes were red as he watched Malaina Silvestri escorted away. His expression told the whole terrible story.

  “Ari Rabin,” I said with a hand extended. “Agent Mather. I’ve wanted to meet you for quite a while.”

  He regarded me as a stranger, as well I was. “And why is that?” he asked in a skeptical voice.

  “Because … I know,” I said in an understanding voice. “I knew the moment I saw you standing next to Malaina Silvestri on the surveillance video taken at her father’s funeral.” Even with the dark sunglasses, I recognized him as the man posing alongside Rachel Rabin in the photographs I had seen in her apartment.

  “But.” He looked at me imploringly. “How could you?”

  I reached into my pocket and handed him the locket I had found in Rachel’s drawer at work, the one hidden under a stack of ordinary paperclips. It contained a photo of Ari and Rachel, side by side at the beach, a picture from happier times. “I’m so terribly sorry for your loss. It gives me great comfort to know that Rachel’s death has been avenged.”

  Ari’s eyes were red and watery. They were troubled eyes. “So when you said, ‘you know’?” he asked with trepidation in his voice.

  I looked around to make sure we were out of earshot. “I’d rather drink poison than place you under arrest. May God be with you.” I placed my hand on his shoulder as I recalled the punishment Ben Elias had wished for Linuzzi and Silvestri. “An eye for an eye, isn’t that the way it goes?”

  He nodded. “King Solomon’s law.” He reached into his pocket and handed me a cell phone. “I taped Linuzzi’s confession.” He closed his eyes to summon strength. “Elias told me that your intentions were pure. You alone should know what those animals did to my sister.”

  I quickly slipped the phone into my pocket. It would never be admitted into evidence. Linuzzi, Silvestri, Abate, and Orzani were dead—case closed. “Travel safely, my friend. I hope that Israeli intelligence gives you the time you need for your wounds to heal.”

  “I doubt they will, and perhaps it’s better that way. Grieving is a slow poison, and I need to be strong. Israel’s enemies are many.”

  I had one last hunch that I wanted to follow through on. Lars Tandy, Wallace’s friend at the CIA, had given me some background on the workings of the Israeli intelligence community. I had learned that Ben Elias was far more than a doting, gentle-mannered diplomatic envoy, and that the information he learned from me had most certainly guided Rabin to Linuzzi. Under the circumstances, I didn’t mind the fact that I had been used. “Can I ask you one last question before you leave?”

  “Ask me anything you like,” he volunteered.

  I took a deep breath before asking. “Your sister working for Soto … that wasn’t a coincidence, was it?”

  Ari appeared thoughtful for a moment.
>
  As I waited for his answer, I saw Ben Elias approaching.

  “That’s a state secret.” Ari grinned in a melancholy way and then glanced at Elias. “But perhaps you might ask the man who was her boss.”

  Chapter 68

  Rachel Rabin did not move to New York to escape the pain and anguish of her parents’ murder. She did it so that no other man or woman, no son or daughter would have to suffer the horror that she had. She was working at Transglobal in an effort to stem the illegal weapons flow to Israel’s enemies, working by herself in a land several thousand miles from her home so that no one else would lose their parents the way that she had.

  I’ve seen many casualties, both as an agent of the FBI and as a Marine Corps officer. So many bodies, I wondered. Do they count? Is God keeping score? Does he even care? I couldn’t help but wonder if Rachel Rabin’s suffering and death mattered to the Almighty. It certainly mattered to me. I knew what it felt like to be violated and used to satisfy a man’s lust. I had listened to Linuzzi’s confession and knew that she had paid a far higher price than I had. I thanked God for giving me the opportunity to pursue justice for women like Rachel Rabin. I thanked him for giving me strength.

  Chapter 69

  I was surprised to see Lorraine Franco in the hospital waiting room. I guessed that the budding romance between her and Cabrera had taken on a life of its own.

  Cabrera’s procedure was pretty simple. The doctor would thread a laser up his business, split the kidney stone, and pull it out. The entire process was scheduled to take thirty minutes.

  “How’s he doing?” I asked as soon as I saw her.

  Lorraine smiled as I sat down next to her. “They’ve already completed the procedure—the doctor did me a favor and told me that it went well.”

  I raised both eyebrows. Is that a fact? Well, so much for HIPAA laws and an individual’s right to privacy.

  “He should be out in a little while,” she continued. “Just as soon as the anesthesia wears off and he gets dressed.”